Disclaimer : The serie "Buffy the vampire Slayer" belongs to it's only creator, Joss Whedon. And I did, of course, nothing touched to write the following.
Pairing : Angelus/Buffy ( Abusive relationship )
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The rating M is alsoperfectly well used, so, you are prevented :)
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This O.S is located chronologically between the 2x13 and 2x22, where Angel has become Angelus.
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I am also French, with a beginner level in English, so, a thousand forgiveness for the faults.
- As the rain can turn into ice,
love can turn into pain. -
( Unknown )
The stone of the anonymous vault against which you have just been brutally plated, is as hard and icy as Angelus's fingers around your tender throat, as well as of your thin wrists criss crossed over your head. From the pulp of his cold thumb, he can even feel the frantic beatings of your carotid that pulsate under the skin, intensifying that particular glow that burns in his dark look.
There was a time, yet not so far, where when those same brown eyes were enveloping you, you was reading there an infinite tenderness.
Now, they chill and pierce you so much, that you almost come to forget, that you are however able to release you.
Are not you endowed with powers related to your Slayer status ? Have you lost your desire to fight so you can live until the next dawn ? Or, do you expect, with a mixture of impatience and mixed repulsion, that which will followen irremediably ?
Even more, when Angel's knee slips between your legs, that he is slowly getting closer to you, and sticks his firm body to yours, while you recognize the smell that fills your nostrils, manly and heady.
Except it's not Angel anymore.
Angel was protecting you. Angel was worried for you. Angel loved you.
It is moreover paradoxically, because he has done, so much and so ardently, that he is not longer here, having given way to this demon devoid of soul that bears his features.
And you know what Angelus wants from you, while his dark eyes remain welded to the clear water of yours. You know why he does not take advantage of your immobility, to broken your fragile neck, as if it were only, a simple too dry twig. Why he sketches a charming smile, where for a second, you have the impression to find again a little of Angel.
Of course, that you know it.
That's why your heart beats so fast, as a drum roll in his ears so alert.
"What does he have my love ?" He whispers in a low voice. "Would you be scared ?"
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Do you remember your first hunt, the one that marked the day your world rocked ? From your horrified stupor when you killed your first vampire ? Do you remember how frightened you, at the thought of understanding the precise purpose of your mission ?
You were so young, and you had everything to learn.
Especially on fear.
You had to tame her, to live with her every day, and to make of her, an ally of all moments. Of those who push you beyond your limits, and oblige you to give back blow for blow until your last breath.
Because if you are no longer there to protect the people who are most dear to you, who will do it ?
"No." Do you say to the vampire who keeps you now a prisoner, knowing however, how much you lie.
Because, in truth, you are afraid of yourself.
You are terrified by how you really feel, as much as you feel about Angelus, because since the first time you lost yourself in his arms, you realized that this glow in his brown eyes, you apprehend it as much as you wish to see her appear.
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Angelus scorns you.
From his mind now totally free, he has banished even the smallest memory of what Angel has could share with you. He wants to forget the slightest sensation, the smallest of kisses, or the most tender caresses.
He wants to erase all traces of you in him.
You are his weakness, the proof of what he has been by owning a human soul, and indirectly, a reminder of tortuous remorse that has plagued him for too many longer decades.
So, he started killing again, for the taste of blood, and that of death, because if there is something he loves more than anything, it's the pain. It's even an art in which he excels.
The fear he inflicts on others, possess a flagrance from which he gets drunk until to the dregs, a delicious fragrance who will never know of equal others to his eyes.
It's a vampire, a monster destitute of humans feelings, and of everything that could be related to sweetness.
And you are well placed to know it, you who hide from your loved ones, the blues and scratches that he leaves on your skin so soft, after each of yours meetings. Although, these are only physical marks, to prevent you from forgetting that you belong to him.
As he loves to remind you.
In three words, and as many of syllables.
Three little words that he whispers to you in the hollow of his ear, when he sinks hard inside you. This words those who now reflect what's left of your relationship, and it forces you to repeat :
"You're mine."
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Angelus hate you.
He does not need to tell you, though. You feel his contempt in each of his kidney shots furious, each of his raucous breaths, and in each of those three fucking words that he delights in hearing you vomit.
He orders it to you as soon as he possess your supple body again, when that brutal desire which he always feels - and despite himself - for you, overwhelm him so much that he makes sure that it you to come back to him.
Because he understood how much you suffer from having been involuntarily the culprit of Angel's disappearance, your first love snatched forever, and having left behind only that gloomy reflection and evil, who is now playing with you as he pleases.
You obsess him as he has been it of Drusilla, and if you has could prevent which the story from repeating itself, you do not remain less something which he wants to do again yours.
He is not tender, however.
As evidenced by the memory of the painful slap, which marbled your left cheek of a stinging trace, the first time he took you by force on the damp grass of a remote corner of the cemetery, one evening like the others where you went to patrol.
You did not see anything coming from his original intentions, while he has skillfully profited from your anguish and your sorrow.
Who could have blamed you for that ? Who could have known that he only wanted to satisfy an impulse he himself believed passager ? After all, you are not the first to have bowed to his will, and you remain human despite everything.
This however, you did understand it when you got home, more particularity under a hot shower to erase all traces of violence on your broken body.
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Angel treasured you.
During his whole life, of mortel, of monster, and of repented killer, he never loved anyone but you. When you was be in his arms, he had for you, than patience, sweetness and tenderness, having always wanted to take some of your burden, and add it to his, to relieve yourself.
Because you were also a little girl a his eyes. A fragile doll that must be touched with care.
Not, that he did not never see the fighter.
But he could read between the lines, and perceive how much your loneliness was big.
Because there is not only a Slayer in you. It's not what you are, but what you were forced to become despite your extreme youth, and what characterized the existence of a teenager of fifteen, beautiful and brimming of vitality
That, Angel had seen it, well hidden under your carapace forged to the rhythm of the patrols, and wooden piles pushed in dead hearts.
And, he wore his name well, this solitary guardian angel and mysterious, out of the shadows to offer you his help. A fallen' angel who loved you, while they are not allowed to know this kind of happiness.
No more than the vampires, anyway.
Yet, Angel loved you.
And you loved him back.
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Angelus released your neck, but not your arms since his intention is not to let you go.
He furiously wants you, as much as it is possible for him to want it.
"You should." He smile darkly.
Just before his hand goes down, grabbing your bosom under the thin fabric of your coat.
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You never said anything to anyone.
This particular tonight, where you cried bitter tears under a jet of water so hot that it almost burned you, you have promised yourself that you will never confessed anything to anyone.
It's your shame, your secret.
Nobody needs to know.
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"Look at me."
You has closed the eyes.
From the moment Angelus' hands has opened your clothes, denudatived your bust and your thighs, and next, forced you to lie down on the floor, you closed the eyelids. Except that he has just entered in you, in one fell swoop, firm and whole, who cut you off the breath, and that he wants your gaze anchored to his before starting a first thrust.
He told you that the first time.
He wants to see your eyes when he fuck you.
That's why he slapped you, so violently that your teeth clashed, and which your mouth has filled with blood.
Because you refused to obey, that you had struggled with the energy of despair, but not like a Slayer, no, like prey. Then his hand has felled on your cheek, and the voice of Angelus had rumbled in your ears, low and threatening :
"Now."
Do you remember the strong taste of fear and shame, mixed with this, more metallic one of your own blood, even as you slowly obeyed ? Do you remember having definitely lost the reason, the very second he brutally buried himself in your flesh ?
Of this last moment, where, you has become a victim ?
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A stronger blow than the previous one sinks deeper between your legs, and your nails cling to the shoulders covered with the black silk of his shirt, opened by your care. Another follows, and it is a groan that escapes from your parted lips.
Another one, and it is your body that arches against him who submits you to his will.
But this time, you are fully consenting.
You want it you too, this violent pleasure that plows your bowels to the rhythm of Angelus's hips. This time, this not a rape, even if you refuse to admit it, if only in thought.
You also raised your eyelids, no to answer an order, but to nourish this lie that you embroider, and which envelops in a veil of deceit, the mud in which you have been plunged.
Yet, you have not forgotten your sense of humiliation, mixed with that of shame and self-loathing.
You tremble even as soon as the night comes to fall, because you know that your nightmares have the full opportunity to come back to torment you, that they take the form of dreams, or that of a violent and passionless embrace.
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Angelus don't love you.
He does not understand anything about love, and take only what he wants, in the only way that makes him vibrate. And he knows you from every angle, know how to infiltrate in the slightest rip, for to reach you the very heart of your deepest terrors.
But that, you have already accepted it, is not it ?
Because even if he hurts you like every time, even if he prints in you his belonging, you keep your gaze anchored to his, obstinating you against all odds, of to look for what can remain of Angel.
End